


The Third Noel

by prettyluke (buttonjimin), tiedyepieinthesky



Category: 5 Seconds of Summer (Band)
Genre: Christmas, College AU, Fluff, M/M, Michael is from NY
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-26
Updated: 2016-11-26
Packaged: 2018-09-02 07:53:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8658673
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/buttonjimin/pseuds/prettyluke, https://archiveofourown.org/users/tiedyepieinthesky/pseuds/tiedyepieinthesky
Summary: Michael and Calum have been dating casually since freshman year, but this year Michael asks Calum to come home with him for Christmas.  There's just one catch...well, a few catches.





	

“Put that away,” Michael whines, pawing at Calum’s sleeve.

Calum ignores his bellyaching, his focus scattered by the intermittent interruptions.  He rereads the question, resisting the urge to give in and sink down next to Michael.  He mutters something about mitochondria, then glances at the textbook in front of him and groans, his chest growing heavy with anxiety when he thinks about the ramifications of not studying hard enough.

“Cal.  You’re gonna ace it.  C’mon, just put it away for a bit. I didn’t come here to study.”

“I was just going to pretend you weren’t here while I studied,” Calum explains indifferently, although he feels his resolve weakening a bit.  He thumbs over the next page, tongue poking at the inside of his cheek.  He whispers an answer to the first question, finger tracing down the list.  He pauses to add, “You’re welcome to take a nap.”

Michael sits up and yanks the book out of Calum’s hands, setting it on the desk next to him.  Calum gears up to gripe about it before Michael snakes an arm around his waist and pulls him down so he’s lying on the bed.  He presses a kiss to Calum’s temple, smoothing his hair back.  Calum settles with a sigh.  There is at least some comfort in Michael’s presence and warmth, he thinks.  “You can relax for a bit,” Michael declares magnanimously.  “I give you my permission.”

“Fine, fine,” Calum relents, suppressing a smile.  His body relaxes, forgetting to fight Michael’s tight grip.  He doesn’t mind so much, although his worries about passing his test still nag at him.  “If I fail I’m going to blame you.”

“I can live with that,” Michael says, smiling lazily and rolling onto his elbows, bracing one on either side of Calum’s torso and leaning down to kiss him once, twice, three times.  Calum’s head nearly spins, his hand coming up to cup Michael’s jaw where the stubble is growing back in.  “I can definitely make you forget about a stupid test.”

“Shut up,” Calum says, but can’t stop the smile this time.  He’s never been able to, when it comes to Michael. “Nothing can make me forget about the impending doom that is a biology final.”

“You sure?” Michael says, pressing a kiss on Calum’s collarbone.  It tickles, and Calum notices Michael’s lips are chapped, a symptom of the cold weather.  “Not this?” Michael works his way up Calum’s neck, to the underside of his chin.  “None of this?”

“No,” Calum denies stoutly.  “None of that.”

Michael flops back down, giving up.  “Well, at least I can say I gave it my best shot.”

“I just don’t understand why they decided to have the end of the semester be right before Christmas.  As if we didn’t have enough to do already with the shopping and the planning, now I also have to study.”

“Speaking of which,” Michael says, sitting up, wringing his hands in his lap.  “I was wondering if—assuming you don’t already have plans—wanted to, you know, come over?  For Christmas Eve?”

He looks up at Calum, eyebrows raised in a worried expression.  Calum doesn’t immediately catch on. “Come over where? We live together, dork.”  He grins, jostling Michael’s shoulder, but Michael’s uneasy look doesn’t settle. Calum knows him well enough to be sure that he’s nervous about something.

“To my family’s,” Michael says, and jerks his eyes up to Calum’s. “Dork,” he adds almost confrontationally, cheeks flushing as he drops his gaze again. “Like, since you’re not flying home this year, I just thought maybe you could come and meet my family. I mean, not like meeting the family, but just—you know.”

Calum’s mouth parts in surprise. He’s thought about it before, what it would be like to meet Michael’s family, or vice versa. Michael doesn’t talk about his family much, and they’ve never considered themselves serious enough to meet the in-laws, especially since Calum’s are all the way in New Zealand. He wonders if, despite Michael’s casual intentions, he might be in for more than just a one-time Christmas Eve dinner. Does Michael think they’re that serious, then?

“You want me to meet your family,” Calum says, a bit stupidly. “Are you sure?”

Michael rocks slightly, nodding. “Yeah, yeah. Would you, like, want to do that?”

Calum nods slowly back. He tries to imagine Michael’s house, laid out in the same format as his own for lack of better imagery. He knows what Michael’s mother looks like from Facebook photos, but can’t imagine himself actually meeting her. Still, he feels a flicker of excitement at the thought of Michael introducing him to his family. A hand on the small of his back, talking about him fondly and proudly, the way he’s imagined it before. The same way he would introduce Michael to his own family.

“Yeah,” he agrees out loud. “If your parents would have me.”

Michael grins, clearly relieved.  “Of course they would have you, doofus.”

“Well, in that case, I would be honored,” Calum says with a laugh.  “You looked so nervous, did you think I was going to say no?”

“No!  I just didn’t want to rush you or anything—”

“It’s been three years! Hardly a rush.” At Michael’s disgruntled look, Calum leans forward and gives him a kiss on the cheek to reassure him. “Don’t worry. I think it’s the perfect time.”

“You sure?” Michael remains skeptical. “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to.”

“Mike, I would be honored,” Calum says, and swings his legs over the edge of the bed. “Now I think I should get back to studying. Your parents wouldn’t approve of a college dropout.”

 

***

 

“No, just eat without me.  Sorry, I got held up after class, so I’m going to be a little late.  No!  I mean, I don’t want you to go hungry.  I’ll just grab something on the way home.  I don’t know, probably like an hour?  Traffic’s pretty bad, Mikey.  Alright, see you then.”

Calum breathes a sigh of relief.  He feels guilty for lying to Michael, but ever since they moved in together, moments alone are rare, and he needs to find the perfect Christmas present.  Specifically, he needs to obtain the perfect Christmas present, since he already has one in mind.

The warm air of the library stings after the subzero temperatures outside.  With finals around the corner, there are few seats, so he practically pounces the moment he sees an open chair.  He already has the page open and everything, he just has to find seats.  Michael couldn’t shut up about how Good Charlotte just got back together and were going on tour again.  

Calum smiles as he tries to find seats closest to the stage.  When he’s satisfied, Calum grabs a few dimes and heads over to the printer.  Michael is going to freak when he opens this.

He can’t help but feel rather pleased with himself. It’s not about money, what they get for each other, but he likes being able to indulge Michael now and then. He can already feel the impact of Michael throwing his arms around his neck and toppling him backwards, the bone-crushing force of his hug. He sends a silent thank you up to whichever force pulled Good Charlotte back together, because it sets the stage for a perfect present for Michael.

He can hardly contain his excitement as he heads home, even though he won’t be giving the present to Michael today, obviously. But it puts him in a good mood as he goes on his way.

“I’m home,” he calls as he walks through the door of his apartment. “I’m the best boyfriend ever.”

“No, I am,” Michael shouts back. “I made you dinner, so humble yourself and get to the table.”

Calum practically flounces through the house, setting his things down by the door and grabbing a steaming bowl of chicken noodle soup. He stirs the contents happily, sitting down at the table where Michael’s already gotten started. It’s a bit cold when he takes a sip, but whether it’s attributable to Michael’s cooking skills or elapsed time, he doesn’t mind. The gesture is sweet enough for him.

“I got your Christmas present today,” Calum says proudly. “You’re going to love me, I swear.”

“Can’t wait,” Michael says appreciatively. He eats a lot faster than Calum, but pauses long enough to look up at him and smile fondly. “I bet it’s awesome, no matter what you got.”

“You’re going to propose to me when you open to it. It’s that good. You’ll be that happy.”

“Way to put the pressure on.”

“Relax,” Calum teases. “It’s only the best present ever.”

“Okay, stop bragging,” Michael says, kicking him under the table. “How’s the soup?”

“Not as good as mine, but passable.”

Michael wags the spoon at Calum warningly, but smiles. “Watch it, or I won’t make you any food at all.”

“And we’d all be better for it,” Calum jokes. “Anyway. How was your day?”

“It was fantastic.  You’ll never guess what happened,” he says, sitting up straighter.

“What happened?”

“Well, I was listening to the radio while I waited for you to come home from class, and, you know how Good Charlotte just got back together?”

“Yeah,” Calum says, getting a little nervous.  “I remember you mentioning it.”

“Well, they were talking about it on the radio between songs, and it turns out Good Charlotte’s coming in March, and the station had tickets.”

“I see,” Calum says, starting to realize where Michael is going. God, this would be a real kicker if Michael says what he thinks he’s going to say.

“They were doing that contest where you have to call in right when you hear the Good Charlotte song, and I recognized it on the first note.”

 _Oh shit_. Calum tries to force a smile on his face to show he’s still interested, but he feels the discouragement seep in.

“Calum,” he says excitedly.  “I won!  We’re going to see Good Charlotte!”

“Yay!” Calum replies, trying to sound enthusiastic while also hiding his disappointment. He can tell Michael is really excited, which makes things all the worse, since he’s not responsible for the light in his eyes and that radiant smile.

“We have front row seats!” Michael practically shrieks.  

Of course.

“I can’t wait,” Calum says, taking a big swallow of soup to keep his mouth otherwise occupied.

Calum sighs.  

 

***

 

Calum wakes up from his nap to a knock on the door.  Carefully, he lifts Michael’s arm and tries to slip out of bed without disturbing him.  

“Yeah?” Calum says as he opens the door and wipes sleep from his eyes.

“Package for a Mr. Hood,” the man at the door announces.  “I just need your signature here.”

Calum spends a few moments searching for a pen before his sleep muddled mind realizes that the man at the door is trying to hand him one.

“Thanks,” he mumbles.  Calum accepts the package and shuts the door, causing the wall to rattle.

“What happened?” Michael grumbles.  His red hair sticks up in tufts all around his head giving him a crazed appearance.  He wipes his eyes and starts to stand up.

“No, babe, it’s nothing.  Just go back to bed,” Calum insists.  He sets the package on his desk, then gestures for Michael to scoot over.  He reluctantly moves but refuses to sleep.

“What’s that?” Michael points at the box, looking expectantly at Calum.

“I’m not sure,” he mutters, as he buries his head in the pillow.  “We’ll open it later.”

“No, I want to see what’s in it,” Michael insists.  He shakes Calum and hits him with the pillow.

“Ow!” Calum yells, sitting up and grabbing at the pillow, so he can return the blow.

“Good. Now that you’re up, let’s open the package.”  Michael jumps down from the bed and snatches the box and a pair of scissors from the desk.  “C’mon, where’s your curiosity?”

“I left it in Biology today along with my patience,” Calum  groans.  “If you’re so curious, open it yourself.”

Michael grins and hunts around the room for the scissors that almost never make their way back to the cup on the desk.  After a few moments of futile hunting, he looks back at Calum sheepishly, who points under the under the book shelf with a small eye roll.  Michael’s too busy eagerly tearing through the tape to notice, and seeing Michael like this lightens Calum’s mood.

“What is it?” Calum asks.  He peers over Michael’s shoulder, but the way he’s standing entirely blocks Calum’s view.

“I thought you didn’t care?” Michael retorts, but he shifts to show Calum what looks like a pile of clothes with a note on top.  “It looks like it’s from your parents.”

Calum holds out his hand, and Michael gives him the note before returning his attention to the box.

_Calum sweetie,_

_I was out Christmas shopping and I saw these warm, fuzzy pajamas, and I remembered how you always say how cold it gets in New York.  I hate to think that you’re halfway across the world shivering, so I thought you would like something warm to wear.  I completely understand if you’re too old to wear pajamas from your mom, but it makes me feel better to know you have something cozy in your drawer._

_Lots of Love,_

_Mom_

_P.S. Your annual Christmas cookies should arrive within the next few days._

_P.P.S. Mali says she misses you and wants you to call her._

Calum looks up to see a giddy Michael holding up a pair of fuzzy blue pajama pants with polar bears and snowflakes along with a dark blue thermal.  Before he can even process what he’s seeing, Michael pulls another lump of clothes out of the box and throws them at Calum.

His are green with pictures of the Grinch and little candy canes.  Calum scowls at Michael, who just shrugs.

“It seemed appropriate,” he says with a grin.  “Your mom is actually the best.”

“It was pretty nice of her,” Calum agrees.  “I should give her a call.”

“Calum, what was it like when you came out?” asks Michael abruptly.  He looks at Calum calmly, but it’s clear by the way he’s sitting on the edge of the bed and by the way his fingers dance nervously over his knee that he’s only acting nonchalant.

“Pretty uneventful actually,” Calum admits.  “Obviously I was anxious about it, but my mom kind of just nodded, Dad told me to do what made me happy, and Mali whispered, ‘I knew it’.”

Michael laughed, but his smile didn’t reach his eyes.  “That’s great.”

“Yeah, it was.”  Calum pauses for a moment before plopping down on the bed beside him.  “Is everything alright?”

“Oh!” Michael looks at Calum as if seeing him for the first time.  “Yeah, everything’s fine, I was just thinking.”

“About?” Calum prompts.  It’s clear that Michael is worried about something, and the more he avoids the subject, the more concerned Calum becomes.

“About how soft these pajamas are and how fantastic we would look in them,” Michael quickly responds with a grin.

Calum relaxes a little before jokingly adding, “I don’t think we would both fit in your pajamas.”

Michael rolls his eyes then dashes to the bathroom and exclaims something about making a big entrance.  As Calum pulls on his new Grinch covered attire, he can’t seem to shake the feeling that something’s eating at Michael.

Even when Michael returns and puts on _Elf_ , he worries about what Michael refuses to tell him, but the warmth of being snuggled under several comforters eventually lulls him to sleep and his troubles slip away with his consciousness.

 

***

 

Calum grabs at the bedside table, knocking over the lamp in his attempt to find his phone.  He winces as he hears Michael groan and turn over.  There’s a moment where Calum sits tensely waiting to see if he woke Michael, but his breathing evens, and Calum breathes a sigh of relief.  With nothing left on the nightstand, he realizes his phone was shoved between a few CDs and a biology textbook.  He pulls it out, but one of the CDs slips and hits the floor with a worrisome crack.  Calum’s head whips around, fully prepared to see Michael bolt upright at the sound, but he just turns over and murmurs something in his sleep.  Not for the first time, Calum is grateful that Michael’s a heavy sleeper.  The screen reads fifteen minutes to nine.  As softly as he can, Calum slides out of bed and grabs a pair of jeans from the pile on the floor.  He pulls the first shirt he finds over his head and slides a pair of Vans onto his feet without bothering to wear socks.  He scribbles _At the store, be back in an hour_ on a sticky note and leaves it on the door before slipping out and shutting it quietly behind him.

 The cold air hits Calum as he steps onto the freshly cleared sidewalk.  He pulls his coat on, regretting his choice of footwear as the snow soaks through the canvas of his shoes.  With a shiver, he reminds himself that it’s only half a mile away.  Despite the chill and the wet Vans, Calum can’t deny that it’s a lovely morning.  People dash in and out of stores, toting bags full of gifts and decorations.  Stores have trees in the windows and Christmas music emanates from all directions.  It even smells festive.  The aroma of cinnamon and freshly baked cookies hits him as he passes the campus cafe.  For a moment, he almost goes in to get a cup of coffee, but he forces himself to turn onto West Houston.  The quicker he gets there, the quicker he can be back in bed.  Each step rubs a little more on the side of his foot, and it becomes increasingly clear that not wearing socks was a terrible idea.  After what seems like ten miles, he sees Broadway and turns the corner where Best Buy stands like a sort of sanctuary.  Calum never thought he’d be so happy to see those automatic doors, but relief floods over him.  He wonders if they sell socks at Best Buy—

“Calum!”

“Hey, Patrick,” Calum says, sliding his phone back into his pocket.  “I was just about to text you.”

“No worries, man.  You here for the PS4?” Patrick asks, looking over his shoulder every few seconds.

“Are you okay?  You look nervous,” Calum observes.  

“What?” Patrick fiddles with his name tag as he stares at the empty counter behind him.  “Oh! No I’m fine, it’s just—um—Elisa said she was working today, but she’s not here.”

“Ah, Elisa.  Who’s Elisa?”

Patrick blushes.  “She’s...she’s my...we haven’t really talked about it yet, but we’re going out.  We’ve actually been going out for a few months now, and last night out of the blue she started talking about Christmas, but I already told my mom I was going home for Christmas and now I have to explain to Elisa that I’ll be spending Christmas in Illinois.”

Calum pats him on the shoulder.  “Sorry, dude.  That’s rough.”

“Yeah,” Patrick trails off, but then shakes his read and recollects himself.  “Anyway, your PS4 is behind the counter.  Let me go grab it.”

Once Patrick’s out of earshot, Calum chuckles.  Patrick’s situation seems like a mess, and he can’t help but be grateful that he and Michael already worked out a plan for Christmas.  As soon as Patrick comes back, he’ll even have his Christmas present for Michael worked out.  He had a rough start, but it’s all coming together now.

“Here you go,” Patrick says as he walks back with a yellow plastic bag.  “Tell Michael I say hi.”

“Thanks, I will.  And good luck with the whole Elisa thing,” Calum adds before braving the harsh outdoors again.  He tucks the box under his jacket to protect it from the light snow fall.  His shoes are still soaked—and getting more soaked by the second—but he’s grinning the whole walk back to the apartment.  His present is absolutely perfect.  Michael’s been talking about wanting one for months, and it even came with a few games.  Once he’s inside, he takes off his jacket to hide it in case Michael’s already awake.

Calum hears Michael’s raspy, early morning voice insist, “Mom, you can’t.  It’s too much.”

He unlocks the door and positions the PS4 to the left, so that it’s less visible from the bed.  Sure enough, Michael’s sprawled on the bed, phone to ear, and hand across his face, rubbing at his eyes.  He looks up when Calum walks in and mouths, “Where were you?”

Calum mouths back, “The store” before going to the bathroom to temporarily stash his gift.  Before he puts it down, however, he hears Michael say, “Mom, PS4s are expensive.  You should return it and get something for yourself—Mom, don’t pretend you don’t know how to return things...Mom?”

Calum groans and irritably covers the box with his coat again.  He kicks off his shoes and goes back out to grab a pair of socks and his boots.

“She hung up on me,” Michael says, voice muffled by the blanket over his head.  

“I’m sorry.  Is there anything I can do?” Calum offers tiredly.

Michael sits up and eyes Calum suspiciously.  “Are you going back out?”

“Yeah, I need a cup of coffee.”  Which, to be fair, was an understatement.

“Could you grab me something, please?”  he collapses back on the bed.  

“Sure.”  As he steps back outside, he feels his phone buzz in his pocket.  Patrick texted him.

_Hey!  Just wanted to let you know that Elisa came in.  I told her, and now she’s coming with me back home for Christmas.  Sorry, I’m really excited and I had to tell someone.  Anyway, see you later._

Calum groans.  He’s officially the only one who can’t catch a break.

 

***

 

For the third time in a month, Calum tries to contain his excitement as he walks home from an attempt to buy Michael a Christmas present.  This time he checks to make sure there were no contests offering to give away his gift and called all of Michael’s relatives to make sure that they had not already bought it.  There is no foreseeable way for Michael to obtain his gift before Calum gives it to him.

Considering his luck previously, Calum is almost hesitant to celebrate.  His experiences over the past month have taught him that the unexpected has a habit of popping up right when he starts to relax, but even so, he can’t help but crack a smile as he rushes past other frenzied New Yorkers in the snow.  Everyone seems to have somewhere to be, but there’s also undeniably an atmosphere of warmth and cheer.  The people around him are walking quite quickly, but many carry red bags with festive expressions on the side.  A few even wear Santa hats or Christmas sweaters, and nearly all smile or gaze with wonder at the flakes descending lazily from the sky.  It appears to be a picture-perfect Christmas Eve.

He isn’t sure when he started, but he whistles “Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer” when he walks into the apartment, gift tucked in the inner pocket of his coat.

“I’m home,” he calls out.  Calum hastily hides Michael’s present in his backpack.   “It’s snowing outside.  Not the gross, wet snow, but the nice, powdery flakes that get caught in eyelashes and such.”

He pauses for a moment examining a book he found in his bag about the Dutch healthcare system that he doesn’t remember obtaining.

“Mike, are you reading about the health care system in the Netherlands?”

When there’s no response, he just shoves it back in his backpack figuring one of them will remember where it came from eventually.  

“Do you ever think about the saying ‘out of sight, out of mind’?” he continues.  “I mean, it really is amazing how as soon as something isn’t in our direct line of view, we tend to stop thinking about it.  Obviously that’s not true of everything…”

Around this point is where Michael usually interjects or announces his presence, but Calum hasn’t heard a sound since he arrived, and he starts to worry, so he absentmindedly kicks his backpack under his chair and searches the small apartment.  Just as he runs out of places to look, he hears the familiar click of the door being unlocked, followed by the sharp metallic ring of the chain stopping the door.

“CALUM,” Michael yells.  “CALUM, THE DOOR.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming,” Calum replies.  “Can you just hold on a second?”

He tries to shut the door to unlock the chain, which is met with much protest from Michael who is leaning heavily on the door to keep the pile of boxes and bags in his arms from falling over.

“Mike, if you want to come in you have to let me close the door,” Calum insists, a little exasperated.  “I can’t undo the chain with it open.”

“Okay, how about if you close the door very slowly and I’ll step back with it, so the things leaning on the door can keep leaning on it and you can also close it.”

Calum sighs, but nods and begins to shut the door slowly as Michael retreats further into the hallway.  Once the door clicks shut, Calum undoes the chain and opens it.  Immediately after Calum twists the knob, Michael and his collection of items fall into the room on top of Calum.

“We didn’t think that one all the way through,” Michael observes.  Calum opens his mouth to complain, Michael kisses him, derailing his train of thought.

“Nice to see you too,” Calum says with a smile.  Once Michael stands, he helps him stack the boxes up neatly and hangs the bags from the hooks near the door.

“Christmas presents for the family,” explains Michael.  “I’ve been pushing it off, because it’s so hard to shop for them.  Mom, for instance, always makes this face when she opens what I got her and her voice gets all high.  Every time she’s done that to someone else’s present, I see her return it later, so I know she’s hated what I’ve gotten her for the past three years.”

“I’m sorry, babe,” Calum says as he scrounges through the cupboard.  “Did she return them?”

Michael pauses for a moment to consider it.  “No,” he decides.  “I think she keeps them because she doesn’t want to hurt my feelings, which is nice, but I don’t want her to have a bunch of shit lying around the house that she doesn’t use, and I only bought because I didn’t know what to get her.”

“Well, what did you decide to get her this year?” Calum asks.  He eyes a can of soup suspiciously.  He doubts that it’s bad, but the logo has changed at least twice since this can was bought, and he debates whether or not he can justify eating it to himself.

Michael rummages through one of the smaller bags and pulls out a medium sized book.  He examines the cover closely as he replies, “I got her this book that she looks at every single time she sees it, but she never buys it.  I always ask her why she doesn’t just get it if she wants it so much, and she always mumbles something about how she doesn’t need it.”  

“I’m sure she’ll love it,” Calum says.  He dumps the can of soup in the trash.  He doesn’t have a lot of standards in terms of food, but chicken noodle soup of uncertain age is too revolting even for him.  “Shouldn’t we bring something with us to your parents’ house?  Like a dish or something?”

“Well what do we have?”  Michael peers over Calum’s shoulder into the pantry before moving on the fridge.  

“Nothing really.  I don’t think they’ll appreciate a half-empty jar of pickles or a Cup of Noodle that came with the apartment.”

Michael grimaces.  “We never threw that out?”

“We always said we were going to, but it slipped our minds, and then the longer it sat there, the grosser it became and the less we wanted to touch it.”

Michael nods.  “Makes sense.  Well, I think it would be nice if we brought something over, but we don’t exactly have anything of value.”

“We could pick something up on the way there,” Calum suggests.  “Like a pie or something easy.”

“Is anything open on Christmas Eve?” Michael wonders.  

“Maybe that little convenience store on Third...we can take the subway to your parents’ house, then walk to Third and see if it’s open.  If it is, we’ll buy something and bring it.  If not, we’ll bring those cookies my mom sent.”

“We got those over a week ago.  They’re probably as stale as the Cup of Noodle,” complains Michael.

“Then pray the convenience store is open, because I am not meeting your parents for the first time empty handed,” Calum insists with a note of finality.

“Alright, fine.”  Michael quiets and his brows furrow as he gazes intently at his shoes.

Calum stops rummaging and sits down beside Michael on the bed.  “Hey, are you okay?”

“There’s something I didn’t tell you.  I’ve been pushing it off because I’m kind of embarrassed about it.  It’s kind of like the Cup of Noodle.  It was unpleasant, so I pushed it off and now that I’ve waited so long, it’s gotten out of control and impossible to deal with,” Michael blurts out.

Calum wraps his arm around Michael and pulls him in close.  “Don’t worry about it.  Just tell me.  I’m sure it’ll be fine.”

“Well,” Michael begins.  “I haven’t really told my parents about us.”

“You haven’t told your parents that we’re coming over for dinner?  I thought you said they invited us?”

Michael looks at Calum for a moment and lets the statement hit him fully.

Calum’s eyes widen and he takes his arm off Michael.  “Wait a second, you haven’t told them about us?  Like, the fact that we’re dating?”

Michael nods, but doesn’t say a word.

“Michael, we live together!  What did they think we were doing over here?”

“That’s the thing,” Michael mumbles.  “They think we’re just friends.  It’s not that I didn’t want them to know that we’re dating, it’s just that I couldn’t tell them because I haven’t told them something else.”

“What?” Calum hisses.  “You haven’t told them you’re at college?”

“I haven’t told them I’m gay,” Michael says bluntly.

Calum rests his head in his hands and takes a deep breath.  “Look,” he says after a moment of uncomfortable silence.  “Let’s just go over there.  I’ll pretend to just be your friend, and we’ll talk about this later.”

“Alright,” Michael agrees.  “Let me just wrap these real quick and then we’ll go.”

Calum mutters that he needs a minute and heads out the door, nearly forgetting to grab a jacket on the way out.  As much as he would like to be furious at Michael for not telling his parents about their relationship, he can’t.  He knows firsthand how hard it is to come out, and he sees where Michael is coming from.  He doesn’t know a lot about his parents, but Michael has mentioned several times that they’re on the conservative side, so Calum can’t blame him.  

He is livid, however, that Michael waited until ten minutes before they are leaving to tell him that he was about to endure an evening pretending to be his roommate.  Hell, if he’d even told him a few days ago he would’ve had time to prepare for a night of reminding himself not to reach out for Michael’s hand when things get uncomfortable, not to look at Michael for too long, not to get that look in his eyes when he answers questions about Michael.

God, tonight is going to suck.

Calum takes a deep breath and decides to grab a cup of coffee to calm his nerves.  He descends the stairs so quickly that he almost trips twice and rushes out the door.  The first thing Calum notices is that the snow is coming down much faster now, and that it’s hard to see where he’s going.  He walks toward the coffee shop, which is only two blocks away, for two minutes or so and bumps into three people.  Even with his heavy winter jacket pulled tightly around him, he shivers.  Calum walks for five more minutes, and realizes he’s only managed to go one block.  He stands there for a moment, a gesture which is met with yells and angry pedestrians bumping into him, and decides that his best option is to turn around and get home before the blizzard gets any worse.

Calum stumbles into the apartment, jeans soaked through, hair plastered to his forehead, and his face stinging as it hits the warm air inside.

“What happened to you?” Michael asks, sitting up from his position on the bed.

“There’s a blizzard outside,” Calum replies tiredly.  “I don’t think we’ll be able to make it to your parents’ house.”

“Oh,” Michael replies softly.  “I guess I should give them a call.”

Calum doesn’t bother to respond and heads straight for the bathroom to take a hot shower.  For a few moments, he just stands under the stream allowing the hot water to thaw his numb limbs.  

“We’re not going to be able to make it,” Calum hears Michael say.   Calum is still irritated about the entire situation, but there’s a sort of nervousness in Michael’s tone that worries him.  He shuts the water off to hear better and leans toward the door.  “The storm is starting to pick up, and we’re worried about trying to walk in it.”

Michael pauses, and Calum can faintly hear a woman’s voice on the other line.  

“I know, Mom, but I still feel bad.  Yeah, maybe we can come over then, if the weather is nicer.  Um, Mom?”

Calum pulls on his sweats and cracks the door open.  Michael takes a deep breath and his voice starts to sound more high pitched—like it always does when he’s anxious. 

“I was hoping we could get dinner this week.  Just you and me?  There’s something I have to tell you…”

He shuts the door as quietly as he can and doesn’t hear the rest of it.  Calum sinks down onto the toilet and ponders what he just overheard.  Is Michael going to come out to his parents this week?

His anger fades as Calum waits a few minutes for Michael to finish his phone call before he goes back outside.  He knows Michael pretty well, after all, they’ve been together for three years now, and he knows that if Michael was so worried about telling his parents that he waited this long, then he must be terrified to tell them now.  

“Alright, Mom.  I’ll call you tomorrow.  Love you.  Bye.”

Calum counts to sixty, then hastily hangs the towel on its hook and opens the door.  Michael is sitting on the edge of his bed, one hand runs through his hair while the other holds the phone in place while he stares at it.  His forehead is wrinkled with concern, and there seem to be dark circles under his eyes that weren’t there when Calum went into the bathroom.

“You don’t have to do this, you know,” Calum says as he sits beside Michael on the bed.  

Michael doesn't look up.  “No, you were right.  They deserve to know.”

“It’s not about them,” Calum reminds him.  “It’s about you.  If you’re not ready, you don’t have to say anything.”

Michael’s eyes meet Calum’s, the dull fluorescent light making them look almost grey.  “I’m ready.”

Calum pulls Michael into his embrace, and Michael rests his head on his shoulder.  

“I suppose we’re having stale Christmas cookies for dinner,” Michael says, his voice slightly muffled by Calum’s shirt.

Calum laughs.  “Unless you’re craving the ambiguous Cup of Noodle.”

He kissed Michael’s head and pulled away to grab an envelope out of the drawer.  “I was going to give this to you tomorrow, but I’m afraid if I wait too long someone else will give it to you or you’ll find it in an alley or something.”

Michael looks at him with a simultaneously puzzled and bemused expression before accepting the envelope.  He quickly tears it open and pulls out two pieces of paper folded in three to fit inside.  His eyes scan the sheets, and for a moment, no recognition crosses his features.

His eyes widen and he says, “You didn’t.”

Calum grins.  “I did.”

Michael shrieks and hugs Calum, thanking him profusely.  

“We’re going to Comic Con!”

“We’re going to Comic Con, and it’s in Virginia this year, so I figured we’d make a weekend out of it, like a romantic get-away.”

Michael hugs Calum one last time before jumping up and putting the tickets on the fridge.  He stands in front of them for a moment, admiring them before turning around and telling Calum for the third time that he’s the best boyfriend to ever exist.  

Calum smiles and waits patiently for Michael to settle.  Although he appears collected, he’s overjoyed that he finally found Michael a present that he both loves and doesn’t already have.  He considers telling Michael about his Christmas shopping misadventures, but he decides that it’s best to let Michael believe this was his plan all along for the sake of ease.  

Michael hugs Calum one last time before pulling on his new Christmas pajamas and crawling into bed beside him.

“I’m kind of glad that it started snowing,” Michael admits.  “This is nice.”

Calum rolls onto his side to look at Michael, who has the comforter wrapped around his head, giving him the appearance of a worm poking out of the dirt.  He stifles a laugh and agrees.

“Michael?” Calum asks after a moment of comfortable silence.

Michael meets Calum’s eyes and looks at him expectantly.  

“Merry Christmas,” he whispers.

“Merry Christmas,” Michael replies softly.  

 

Around seven that night, the snow stopped falling.  Around seven forty five, the streets were cleared.  Around nine, Michael’s mother called to ask if they still meant to come over.

Michael’s phone buzzed for nearly half a minute, the vibrations ringing loudly through the apartment, but it did not reach a single ear.  Their heads were buried deep beneath the covers, and they spoke in hushed tones and giggles, reminiscing about the past, speculating about the future, and reveling in the present.

Around ten the following morning the two boys could be found huddled beneath the blankets in each other's’ arms, their lips still formed in a circle from whispering, “I love you” as they closed their eyes and drifted off to sleep.  


End file.
